The Journal of Darkest Secrets
by Data Girl 3
Summary: Sequel to TSNE. Emily has been keeping a huge secret from her friends. How will they react when the secret is revealed?
1. Prologue

**AN:** Since I was asked to write a sequel to The Story Never Ends, I am willing to comply. This is only the first of many sequels I've been planning. This one basically focuses on the friendship between Roger and Emily. (And if you're wondering: no, their relationship will never exceed a strong brother/sister one. I love Roger/Mimi WAY too much.)

* * *

"Hey, guys! Watch out for Wenceslas!"

"Well, for goodness sakes, Emily! Can't you keep him in a crate for a while?"

"He's not a 'crate animal' Maureen."

The Bohemians, and the latest addition to their extended family, Emily Goodhall, were in the process of moving Emily into the apartment below the Loft, the one that had once belonged to Mimi. Ever since the dancer had moved in with Mark and Roger shortly after her near-death experience, the apartment had been empty. But now, since Emily had lost her previous home after the Center had been closed down, Mimi had given it to their new friend as a 'welcome to the family' gift.

"You've got quite a lot of stuff, Emily," Mark commented as he started to push a box full of odds and ends up onto the closet shelf. "You never throw anything out, do you?

"What can I say? I'm a sentimental person," Emily laughed, handing two dollars to Penny, Emily's adopted daughter. "Penny, I think I saw a convenience store across the street. Why don't you get some ice cream?"

"Okay," Penny smiled widely before heading out the door. Emily smiled after the freckled-faced girl before turning to her friends.

"I can never thank you guys enough. If it weren't for you, I'd have never been able to adopt her. It really _was _a lucky day for me when you crashed your bike outside the Center, Mark."

At the current time, Mark was having a bit of trouble getting the box up into the closest shelf, as he was a centimeter too short. Noticing this, Roger moved to help, but at that moment, the box slipped from Mark's hands, the contents spilling all over the floor.

"Oh, hold on, I'll take care of that mess," Emily offered. However, as she started to return the items to the box, Roger reached out and grabbed one of the objects. It was an old pink composition notebook with glittery flower stickers stuck all over the cover, nothing truly out of the ordinary, but Roger was staring at it as if it was something from another planet.

"Emily," Roger whispered. "Where did you get this?" Mimi and Joanne, who had been across the room going through Emily's cooking things, looked up. Everyone had instantly frozen the moment they had heard Roger speak. Glancing around, they noticed Mark, Collins and Maureen were all staring from the notebook to Emily, looking extremely stunned. Emily also had her sight focused on the notebook in question, but unlike everyone else, her expression was more of an '_oh, crap, think fast'_ one.

"Where'd you get it?" Roger repeated, his voice starting to rise into a dangerous level, and his green eyes blazing with mounting fury.

"What?" Joanne asked, genuinely confused by the way everyone else was reacting to what appeared to be a simple, ordinary notebook. "Could someone please explain what is so important about that notebook?"

"It's…um…." Maureen faltered in her explanation.

"It matters," Collins mournfully took over, "because that notebook...was April's."

* * *

**AN:** Got your attention, haven't I? I'll update soon. Promise.


	2. Coming to The Center

**AN:** The paragraphs in italics are entries in April's journal. This entire fic will cover the events leading up to April's infamous suicide, and the reasons behind it, and the reason Emily never told Roger the truth about it.

* * *

"I asked you a question, Emily," Roger snarled. "What are you doing with April's notebook?" Emily hesitated for a second before getting up.

"Roger," she began. "What you gotta know about that is…"

"Is _what_?"

"She brought it with her," Emily replied quickly, as if she was forcing herself to speak before loosing her nerve.

"With her? Are you…" Roger suddenly grabbed Emily's arms roughly. "She was _there_? Are you saying she was at _the Center_?"

"I'm sorry," Emily apologized with downcast eyes. "She came to the Center shortly after finding out she had HIV. She said she needed a place to stay while she thought about things. I couldn't turn her away, that's not how we did things there."

"And you didn't have the character to tell me this?"

"I can explain."

"Save it!" Roger shouted, pushing Emily back. "There's nothing you can say. I thought you were my friend, Emily! Friends tell! They don't keep secrets, especially not ones like this!" Without another word, Roger stormed out of the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Emily whispered seconds after he left. She looked up at the others who were all staring at her in shock. "I'm sorry. All of you." Before anyone could say anything Emily retreated out of the apartment complex.

* * *

An hour had passed since the disastrous confrontation downstairs. Roger was sitting at the window, staring out into space. Everyone else, including Mimi, was too nervous to say anything to him, for fear of setting him off. Even Mimi and Joanne, who had never known April, knew that she would probably always be a touchy subject with Roger.

At that moment, someone knocked at the door, and Mark got up to answer it. Outside the door was Penny, looking absolutely peeved, with April's notebook in her hand.

"I came to see Mr. Roger," She announced simply.

"Go away, Penny," Roger hissed from his spot at the window. "I don't _care _what Emily told you to say."

"Like it or not, you're gonna _have _to listen," Penny insisted, walking toward the musician without any trace of fear. The little girl dropped the notebook into Roger's lap. "Read that," she ordered.

"Get it away from me," Roger glared down at the notebook.

"You have to read it, Roger," Penny insisted, gently this time. "I promise, it will explain everything. I know Miss April was your girlfriend. But that's why you gotta read it now." When Roger didn't show any sign of relenting, Penny went on. "I was only five-and-a-half when she was staying at The Center, so I don't remember her that much. All I know is that Mom was crying after you all left. I hate seeing Mom cry. She's cried enough already. Please, Roger. Just read it."

For a tense moment, Roger looked like he was actually going to strike Penny, but then, to everyone's surprise, he grabbed the notebook and opened it to the place where an old movie ticket stub served as a bookmark. There, folded in between the pages was a sheet of paper. Upon unfolding it, Roger had to fight back tears, seeing that it was the paper that made his life turn upside-down. April's test results. The memory of that day came flooding back to him.

**Flashback**

Roger and April sat at the table in the coffee shop, their foreheads touching, with Roger's hand resting on the back of April's head. He desperately wanted to say that everything was going to be all right, but he couldn't. Because it wouldn't be 'all right' again. Their fate, her fate, and quite possibly his fate, was written there plainly. _Report Status: Positive_. April tested positive. Positive for AIDS.

**End Flashback**

Roger gave his head a quick shake to return to the present. Glancing down at April's journal, he saw an entry, written in her handwriting.

"Hey, Roger?" Mark finally got the courage to speak. "You don't have to, but we were hoping you'd read it out loud. We're all wondering the same things you are."

"I doubt it."

"Please Roger?" The musician looked up immediately upon hearing Mimi's hesitant voice. "I… I want to know about April, too."

"Mimi…."

"You never talk about her, Rog. But she's a part of your past. I want to know everything about you. Including your past. The good _and _the bad parts." Roger sent her a tender glace. He could never say no to her. Not when she looked at him with those eyes. Relenting, he began to read.

_May 8, 1988_

_Positive. I tested positive. It's all I can think of. Well, not everything. There's also Roger. He… he hasn't been tested yet. But there's no doubt his will come back the same as mine. How could they not? The number of times we shared needles to shoot up; the number of times we slept together…_

_I practically killed him. That thought hurts more then anything. It hurts so much, I can hardly stand it. I can't even look at him without feeling the tears forming. I just need to get away for a while. Not forever, just long enough to come to terms. And I can't do that here. If I did, I'd just get hysterical. I can't stand it when I do._

_It took me a while to convince Roger to let me leave for a bit. He can be so stubborn at times. Perhaps that's one of the reasons I love him so much. Once he gets his mind set on something, he doesn't let it go easily._

_I don't know what's going to happen. I just know I need time to clear my head. I told Roger I was going to see my folks for a bit. After he relented, he loaned me some money he got from a gig to buy a bus ticket._

**Flashback**

"One ticket to Crystal Falls, Michigan," April muttered, handing the money to the ticket man at the bus station. The ticket man counted the money, but scowled.

"What's this? Tickets to Michigan cost $126. This is $115. You owe me $11."

"What if I wire you the money when I get to my parents'?"

"Listen, missy. We're running a business here. So let me spell it out for you. No money, no ticket."

"Please! This is all I have!" April begged the ticket man.

"Get lost!" the ticket man barked. "We don't give out free rides!" April walked off defeated. Now what? She couldn't return to the Loft. Not now. Even thinking about Roger made her feel as if she'd throw up. How could she have been so stupid? No one had ever cared about her as much as he did. What if she had infected him, too? She couldn't bear the thought of it. The possibility that she might have condemned him, the first man she'd genuinely loved, to death was too much to handle. She needed time to clear her head. Seeing him too soon would just be too much.

"Psst. Miss." April looked up to see a middle-aged woman. "I couldn't help overhearing your spat back there. If you need a place to stay, try going to the corner of Broome and Bowery, over in Little Italy. Ask for Miss Goodhall, or Mrs. Chang. Their doors are open to just about everyone these days."

"Thanks, but I doubt they'd let me stay," April muttered. "Not when I've got…."

"Got what?"

"I…" April took the test result out of her bag, her hand shaking as the woman glanced at it.

"Oh, no worry of that, dearie!" the woman laughed. "I dare say you'll be _quite_ welcome there. You go check it out. You'll see what I mean."

Sometime, later, April arrived at the place the woman had mentioned. However, when she walked in, it was completely deserted.

"Hello?" April called. "Hello?"

"Hey! Is someone out there?" a voice asked. Looking toward the direction of the voice, the redheaded girl saw nothing but a trash bin, the type that would usually be found in a fast food restaurant. A trash can sat nearby, but there was no one in sight

"Hello?" April asked squinting in confusion. At that moment, the flap to the trash bin flew open, revealing a girl's face.

"Oh! Thank goodness, someone _finally _come along! Can you get me out of here, please? I can't open this thing from in here." For a brief second, April stood, completely stunned, but then hurried over to help out. "Oh, thank you!" the girl, dressed in a Yankees jersey and cap, cried in gratitude, flexing her arms and legs in an effort to stretch out her muscles. "I've been stuck in there for over an hour; I was cleaning the inside, you see. But Rupert and Jerry decided it would be funny to lock me in! Those two are _so_ finished when I find them. Oh, _boy _am I stiff."

"Um, excuse me," April began. "But I was told to ask for a Mrs. Chang, or a Miss Goodhall. Do you know where I could find them?"

"Yeah…. I'd say I do," the girl smiled, extending a hand. "Emily Goodhall. How can I help you?"

"Yes, I…um," April trailed off. Despite the woman's assurance, April still was hesitant to tell Emily the truth.

"If you're nervous about something," Emily urged, as if reading her mind. "You don't have to be. You'd be surprised by some of the crap I've seen since I first started living in New York sixteen years ago. I can assure you, nothing you can say would surprise me."

"I… I was trying to get a bus ticket back home, to see my parents," April began, deciding to hold back on the part of being HIV+ for now. "But I didn't have enough money. I… I really can't go anywhere else right now. And some woman who overheard my problem said I'd be welcome here."

"Well, I have to say, there shouldn't be a problem with you staying here for as long as you need to. Unless you have a problem with kids."

"Kids?"

"Sure. If you stay here, you have to be willing to share room and board with about…" Emily paused, calculating in her head. "Twenty-seven children, all ranging in ages from five to newborn."

"I don't mind children," April insisted.

"Oh, good. Then there won't be a problem. Let's just get you checked in with Nana. It will really be _her _call. Her authority overrules mine here."

**End Flashback**

_Nana turned out to be the archetype for a grandmother, the kind anyone would want. She informed me I was free to stay, under the condition that I understood it would not be a free ride. I was expected to assist in looking after the children who lived in this place, which Nana and Emily call the Center. I don't mind, though. I always loved children._

_After I was in, and had my name entered in the Center's record book, Emily helped me get settled. I would be staying up in her small room above the Center. She assured me that if I needed anything within reason, that I shouldn't hesitate to ask._

_But, as I write this during the night, with Emily and everyone else asleep, I can't shake the worry of how they'd react if they ever find out about my HIV.  
_

* * *

**AN:** Yeah, so many fics, even though they are set in movie-verse, have Roger never learning about April's test results until after the suicide. But if you watch the One Song Glory flashbacks, you can see Roger was there when April got her test results. So, that's the reality I use. The one scene of Roger and April, right after they find out about the HIV, is based on a short scene that can only be viewed in the teaser trailer. The link to the screencap is in my profile. (I tried posting it here, but this site won't let me)  
Until next time...


	3. Fitting In

**AN:** I'm trying to make this story as believable as possible. It's mainly from April's point of view (hey, it's her journal after all) and I don't claim to have a definite understanding of how someone would think in her situation, so some things may be off. But, I'll give it my best shot. And besides, that's the beauty of writing about her: you can't easily make her out of character. We don't really know it, do we?

* * *

_May 9, 1988_

_For so many people, it takes some time before you start to understand what make them tick, to use an old saying. But it's not like that with Emily. That's something I started learning on my first morning at the Center. With her, you can start seeing what kind of person she is the very day you meet her, just by watching how she acts around the children of the Center, among other things. _

**Flashback**

April slowly opened her eyes upon feeling something cold and wet on her cheek. As a result, the very first thing she saw was two tiny black eyes in her face. Letting out a surprised scream, she pushed herself to the edge of the roll-away bed to try and get away from the small black pig that was sticking its snout into the bed sheets. At that moment, an amused laugh caused April to look up to see Emily watching in the doorway, holding a serving tray.

"I see you've met Wenchey," she laughed.

"Wenchey?"

"Yes. Short for Wenceslas," Emily continued, placing the serving tray on the wire and cable spool-turned-table and taking a seat at the foot of the roll-away, where she began to scratch the pig's ears. "Do you want to pet him?"

"No! Pigs are filthy and dirty! And stupid!"

"Yeah," Emily chuckled. "And AIDS is just a gay black disease." April looked up sharply at Emily's words, but she didn't appear to notice. "Any other stereotypes you'd like to dabble into? Because I'm game if you are. Pigs, despite the narrow-minded assumptions so many people have, are actually very clean, affectionate animals. And they're highly intelligent. In fact, studies show they're actually the fifth most intelligent animal on Earth, after humans, monkeys, dolphins, and whales. I obviously can't have a dolphin or whale as a pet, and Nana's allergic to monkeys. So, the pig was the top choice."

"Um… why'd you mention AIDS?" April asked in worry. Did Emily figure out?

"It was just the first example that came to mind. And this _is _the best place in the city to debunk the AIDS stereotype. No one here did anything to get it. Their only crime was being born."

"What are you talking about?"

"The children who live here, April." Emily replied seriously. "Half of them were born with the AIDS virus."

"WHAT!" April gaped. "But... but they're only kids."

"Precisely. AIDS does not discriminate. It makes no differentiation between black or white, rich or poor, male or female, young or old. Didn't you learn about it in school? Or in the papers?"

"I…" April looked away. "So, does that mean… you have it too?"

"Me? No… not me. I just look after the children who do. Zack, on the other hand…."

"Zack?" April blinked. Emily suddenly looked as if she believed herself to have said too much.

"Yes, well," she cleared her throat, changing the subject rapidly, gesturing to the serving tray. "You should eat. You will need all the strength you can get today. We're scheduled to take the kids to the park after breakfast. And Rupert and Jerry are always bursting with energy on those days." April gave a wary smile, looking at the contents on the tray. She could easily identify the glass of orange juice and buttered toast, but she could not figure out what the lumpy whitish-yellow substance that filled the plate was.

"Uh, Emily? What is…?"

"Cornmeal mush."

"Ah… I'm not hungry, thanks," April laughed nervously. Emily cast her a serious look, the type a parent would give a fussy two-year-old.

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I… no."

"Then how do you know you don't like it, if you've never tried it?" After a momentary pause, April forced herself to eat. She had to admit it wasn't half-bad. "There, see? You better hurry and get dressed, though. Not to be pushy, but it's best to bring the children out before lunch. Otherwise, they won't be tired at their naptimes." April instantly froze, remembering. She had never packed any of her clothes when she went to the bus station. She slowly explained this to Emily. "I see," Emily nodded in understanding. "Stand up."

"What?"

"Just trust me." Once she had stood up, Emily placed her hands on April's shoulders, and began to size her up. "Yes. I'd say you and I are about the same size and build. My clothes should fit you. It's no trouble, believe me. But… they might be a little more conservative then what you might be used to." April smiled weakly, realizing that Emily was remembering the spaghetti strap tank-top and mini skirt she had worn upon arriving at the Center yesterday.

* * *

Shortly afterward, April and Emily had arrived in Tompkins Square Park and sat at a bench to watch the children play. On the way down, the children had all paired off and had followed them to the park like ducklings. All except one five-year-old girl who had strawberry blond hair and a thin line of freckles passing over the bridge of her nose. This girl had walked right next to Emily and April, holding Emily's middle and index finger in her little hand. The second they all had arrived at the park, Emily had even ruffled the small girl's hair before sending her off to play with the others. As they sat, April glanced down at the clothes Emily had let her borrow. It was a pair of blue jeans and a red and white striped shirt. As Emily had predicted, they were a little roomier then she was used to, but all the same, April was thankful for the long sleeves. They helped cover the track marks on her arms.

The second April thought about her track marks, she gingerly started rubbing at the veins through the shirt sleeves. It had been a while since her last hit, and she was starting to get a craving. The Man should be around here somewhere, but should she risk looking with Emily and the children right there?

"That little one with the freckles seems to really like you, Emily," April noted, trying to get the thoughts of shooting up out of her head.

"I should hope so. She _is _going to be my daughter someday." Emily announced, reaching into the shoulder bag, and taking out a 35mm camera. "I'm going to adopt Penny, once I meet or figure out how to bypass the adoption criteria. I've already made an agreement with Nana on the subject." Without another word, Emily began taking pictures of the trees in the park.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh? Oh. Just taking pictures. I'm an amateur nature photographer."

"Do you bring that thing to the park with the kids all the time, or is this a special occasion?"

"Well you don't expect me to leave it behind, do you? What if I happen across a rock dove nest? How often are you going to get the chance to take a picture of a newly-hatched rock dove? There's no way I'm going to take the risk of that chance passing me by." April, after a brief hesitation, started to laugh, the very first laugh she had let out since her test results had came back.

"What's so funny?"

"You… you really should meet this friend of mine, Emily. I think the two of you would hit it off very well."

"Hmm. Yes. Tell me about your friends. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm not here to pressure you. I'm just trying to piece your story together so we can better understand each other. You said you wanted to go visit your parents, is that right?" April looked down at her feet. She was still worried about telling Emily, but she knew she shouldn't have to be. After all, she understood about AIDS, right? She looked after children with it, right?

"Well, I'm…" Before April could continue, Emily frowned and pointed a finger at something over her shoulder.

"Rupert, Jerry! Don't eat out of the garbage! You'll die!" Emily shouted before directing her attention back to April. "Sorry about that. But you really have to watch those two closely. Otherwise, there's no telling what kind of mischief they'll get into. Now, what were you saying?" April sighed, trying to think of some good place to begin.

"You see… I… well…."

"Hey, is something wrong with your arm?" Emily interrupted. "You keep rubbing it."

"No!" April jumped as Emily reached out to take a look, concern evident on her face. "No, it's nothing. It's…"

"If it's nothing, you wouldn't be rubbing your arm like that," Emily pointed out persistently. When April started to back away, Emily reached out with surprising speed and took April's wrist firmly but gently before pushing back the sleeve. For a brief moment, Emily studied the track marks on April's arm, her face absent of expression. "Well," she nodded finally. "That explains a lot."

"I suppose you're going to kick me out of the Center, then," April started to leave.

"What are you talking about, April?" Emily asked in a casual air, as if the only thing she had done wrong was break a window. "We're not going to force you into the streets on the basis of a drug addiction."

"But… I'm…"

"April, you're a drug addict, right? Addicts are physically dependent on the drugs. Their primary purpose in life is seeking and using drugs, which cloud all judgment. When you think about it, addiction is like a sickness. It's not the Center's way to cast out people with such a serious illness. Maybe you didn't know. In addition to AIDS babies, half the children that are brought to our doors are born with drug addictions. I told you last night, April. There's nothing you can possibly say that would surprise me. It's not my place to judge others. It never has been, and it never will be. Now, sit back down. I want to hear everything. And I guarantee, whatever you say, it will not make me think poorly of you." April hesitated for a brief moment before collapsing on the bench, spilling out everything. The night she met Roger, the day she moved in with him, how they both started using heroin, and finally, April's diagnosis.

"What if he's got it too?" April moaned, tears beginning to fall. "I would have killed him! It would be my fault!" Emily, to April's surprise and gratitude, had listened to the entire story quietly, with a comforting hand squeezing her shoulder every so often to urge her to continue. But when April stated how she felt it was her fault, Emily pulled away, a distant look on her face. "I knew you'd blame me," April wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"No. I'm not." Emily whispered. "It's just that… hearing you blaming yourself… you reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"Me." April blinked in confusion. Forcing a smile, Emily told April her story, about her brother, Zack, and how he had got infected with AIDS while protecting her from the Rat Fang Gang, and how Emily had placed the blame of Zack's death upon herself for the longest time. "So you see, April? You and I have more in common then you thought."

"Except, you don't have…."

"No, but I can partially relate. With AIDS, your immune system is depleted until you can be killed by something as mundane as a common cold. As for me, I'm a diabetic. I can be killed by something as mundane as sugar. There's something else we have in common. Our greatest enemy is the mundane." April couldn't help herself. She had to laugh along with Emily. For the first time since receiving her test results, April didn't feel like someone with a death sentence.

"All right, everyone," Emily suddenly called out to the children, checking her watch. "Straight line." The children all obeyed instantly, and Emily began counting heads. "One, two, three, four, five, six, sev… Rupert! Jerry! If you do that to the poor little frog again, there will be no pudding with your dinner tonight!" April looked over at Rupert, a small Asian boy, and Jerry, another boy of Native American decent, who apparently had been poking a small bullfrog's eardrum with a twig. The second Emily scolded them, the two boys instantly looked up at Emily, both displaying a deer-in-headlights expression. Slowly, they placed the bullfrog on the ground, and it hopped off. "That's better." The contented smile returned to Emily's face instantly, and she continued to count heads. Once she was done, she passed out another order. "Okay, then. Looks like everybody's present and accounted for. Now everyone, hold on to your buddy's hand, and stay together." April watched as the children paired off like they had done before leaving the Center. And, like before, Penny moved over to Emily to walk back at her side.

**End Flashback**

_I said it before, you can start seeing what kind of person Emily is the very day you meet her. If I had to sum her up in one word, it would be 'maternal'. Because she's just like a mother, a mother to the children and even to people she'd barely met, with a pair of shoulders custom made to cry on. I wish I'd known someone like her growing up. Perhaps then, I might not have ended up where I am now._

_Once we got back at the Center, Emily convinced me to talk with Nana about my heroin addiction, as well as the AIDS. Nana told me that she and Emily would both be willing to help me out, and that I didn't need to keep it a secret since they both had a great deal of practice in helping out someone like me all because of the kids in their care. Now I think I understand what that woman meant at the bus station. I really _do _fit in here._

* * *

**AN: **A little additional warning. I'm not expecting this to be my best work. It could get a little jumbled. (I already know where I'm going with this story. It's getting there that's going to be challenging.) So, you might have to bear with me, and I apologize in advance if this story starts getting bad. So, until next time...


	4. Discoveries

**AN:** Long chapter here. The reasons why Emily kept the fact that she'd known April a secret from Roger starts to be revealed in this chapter, and will be completed in the next one. So prepare yourselves.

* * *

_May 11, 1988_

_Emily, right before she began to help me quit heroin, explained all the possible withdrawal symptoms, to be sure I was prepared: restlessness, muscle and bone pain, insomnia, diarrhea, vomiting, cold flashes with goose bumps, and leg movements. She explained that major withdrawal symptoms peak between 24 and 48 hours after the last dose of heroin but will subside after about a week. I asked her once what made her such an expert. She blamed it on a combination of extensive research on the subject, coupled with the years of seeing newborn babies in the Center going through withdrawal. Needless to say, I never asked again._

_However, nothing she said could prepare me for actually going though it. There were times when I actually thought I was going to die from the pain. Most of the time, I can't remember what happened during withdrawals. T__hinking back__, those moments are just blank places in my memory, with brief flashes of Emily wrapping a blanket around me, or massaging my legs and arms. The rest is a blur. But I do remember one time in particular. Emily was out of the room, bringing the laundry down to the washer in the basement, when my withdrawal hit its peak point, the one Emily had told me about. I couldn't stand being in so much pain. I don't know how, but I somehow found a pair of scissors in my hand, the ones Emily sometimes uses when she's developing her pictures. I can only remember thinking about the pain, and how I couldn't take it. It was at that moment that I could remember hearing Emily shouting something, as if from far away. Then, I was struggling with someone, fighting for the scissors. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the feel of the scissors sinking into skin, and Emily shouting again. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on Emily's bed, hours later. When I looked down at my arms to asses the damage, I didn't even see the tiniest scratch. I couldn't understand it. I had stabbed my arm with a scissor, so why wasn't I hurt? That's when Emily came in with some hot tomato soup and grilled cheese for my supper. The first thing I noticed was a fresh bandage on her arm. That's when it hit me. It wasn't _my _arm the scissor had stabbed. I tried to apologize to Emily for hurting her, but she just looked at me for the longest time before telling me that there was nothing to forgive; that I wasn't of sound mind. _

_I can't stand Emily sometimes. How can she possibly have so much tolerance? If I get into a shouting fight with her, she'll just stand there calmly. She won't even shout back. I remember there was this one time Maureen and I read a book about Chinese astrology, about how some people believed that each person was somehow influenced by a certain element. If that's true, I'd have no hesitation in saying Emily's element was water. As it stated in the book: "Water people are creative and captivating, diplomatic and intuitive. Water individuals are the masters of subtle persuasion. Without even appearing to try, they can gain someone's trust and affection, and once they have it,_ _that someone will follow them anywhere. They make everyone feel special, noting and praising each person's unique talents. With inherent pliability, the fluid calm that makes them so appealing can also make them sometimes too passive, too willing to be what someone wants them to be, tending to take the shape of whatever container they're poured into." If anything can describe Emily, it would be that, with heavy emphasis on the 'passive' part._

**Flashback**

April walked up to the dining hall of the Center, where Emily and Nana were already eating breakfast with the children.

"Hey! How you feeling?" Emily smiled as April shuffled in.

"Like sh… lousy," April replied, remembering in time that tThe Center had strict rules about swearing with children present.

"You look like you could use three _years _worth of sleep, April," Nana noted.

"Oh, leave her alone Nana," Emily scolded. "When your body's reacting to the sudden deprival of heroin, then you can talk. Here, April." Emily pushed a plastic yogurt cup and spoon toward April as she sat down at the table.

"No thanks, Emily," April sighed, making a face. "I don't feel like that stuff today."

"What? But it's peach yogurt. I thought you liked that."

"Excuse me!" April cried suddenly, hurrying to the bathroom. "I gotta pee!"

"Wha… that's the third time in the past hour!" Emily called after her. "That's it, Nana. _This_ is not normal. I'm taking her to Dr. Jordan right after lunch, when the children are taking their naps."

"Emily, don't forget. The girl is going through heroin withdrawal," Nana mocked Emily's earlier statement

"Heroin withdra… Nana, frequent urination is_ not _a symptom of heroin withdrawal. You know this, and I know this. I'm taking her to see Dr. Jordan, Nana. Even if it means dragging her down 34th street by her pinky toes."

* * *

True to her word, Emily had taken April to see Dr. Jordan. The middle-aged doctor had showered April with questions as he filled out the paperwork on the clipboard, and then had taken some samples of her blood to run tests. Now Emily and April had to wait until Dr. Jordan returned with his diagnosis.

"Emily, what are you doing?" April stared at Emily, who was currently fiddling with a wooden bead maze that was kept in the room for patients with little children.

"Oh, sorry," Emily grinned, stepping away. "I've just always loved these things."

"Glad one of us is having fun," April spoke dryly.

"Hey. You're not worried that this has something to do with HIV, are you? You have been taking the AZT, after all, right?"

"Yes. I have."

"Then there shouldn't be any reason to worry. You only were diagnosed a few days ago. Unless you haven't been taking the medications, the virus doesn't work _that _fast. Try to calm down. Worrying is pointless. It solves nothing, and only brings more stress. I remember there was this one time, I read about this guy, who exercised regularly, ate all the right foods, and was in perfect health. One day, he got audited by the IRS, and got super-stressed. BAM. Heart attack."

"Shockingly, this isn't helping."

"Sorry." The two girls sat in silence for a short time, with April fidgeting nervously every so often. Finally, Emily made a noise, like a combination of a sigh and a growl, and got up to stand right in front of April, looking directly at her, as if waiting for her to look up. When April finally obliged, to her great surprise, Emily broke into a slightly rusty version of a soft shoe. Seconds after Emily's dance began, April started to laugh loudly.

"Wha… what are you doing?" April gasped between laughs.

"Hey, got you to laugh, didn't I?" Emily pointed out.

"I didn't know you took dance lessons."

"I haven't."

"Then where'd you…."

"Bugs Bunny cartoons." Emily and April continued to laugh for about a minute, when Dr. Jordan finally returned with the results of the blood tests.

"Well, Miss Ericsson, I do believe I've managed to figure out…"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Yes and no. I've diagnosed the reason you've been experiencing the symptoms you and Miss Goodhall related to me. But I wouldn't actually say there's anything _wrong _with you."

"Translation, please, Dr. Jordan," Emily quipped.

"Well, usually, Miss Goodhall, I would ask you to step out of the room to tell Miss Ericsson in private, but seeing how you are, more or less, responsible for her care, due to her living in The Center, I can overlook that regulation." Dr. Jordan handed Emily a prescription sheet. "My first recommendation is to add this to the Center's medicine stores. It's highly recommended Miss Ericsson takes these, along with her regular doses of AZT."

"Dr. Jordan," Emily began slowly, studying the prescription closely. "This is a prescription for…" At that moment, Emily suddenly turned to April, eyes wide in surprise.

"What?" April asked in confusion. "What's wrong?" Emily fell back into a nearby chair, and handed the prescription sheet to April, looking directly at her to wait for her reaction. Hesitantly, April glanced down at the prescription. It was for prenatal vitamins.

**End Flashback**

Roger dropped the notebook, his face betraying his shock. The musician was completely unaware that everyone else was staring at him in equal surprise. At long last, he found his voice.

"A… a baby?" Roger whispered, standing up and starting to pace. But then his stunned state was replaced by anger. "How…? Why didn't Emily ever tell me I was a father?"

"Roger, calm down!" Mark tried.

"Da-m it, Mark! Don't tell me to calm down! April! She had a kid! We had a child! What if… my son or daughter might have been one of the kids we saw at the Center, and I would never have known!"

"ROGER!" Collins interrupted the rant. "Look at the date of this entry! The eleventh of May!"

"So?" Roger snapped.

"Did you forget when we found April in the bathtub, Roger?" Maureen imputed. "We found her in July! That was only two months later!" Roger froze as this fact sank in.

"Are you saying," he growled threateningly, "That April… when she was still pregnant…."

"Mr. Roger?" Penny spoke up. "Just continue reading. And… brace yourself." Roger turned to the seven-year-old, clearly wondering what she meant by that, but then, almost numbly, picked the journal back up to continue reading.

**Flashback**

Emily and April had returned to the Center in silence. Once they arrived, April had immediately headed up to the upstairs room she and Emily shared.

"April?" Emily finally spoke up.

"I'm going to take my AZT," April announced woodenly. "Dr. Jordan's orders, right?" Without another word, she continued up the stairs. Once up in Emily's room, April moved to the cabinet, where her AZT resided, right next to Emily's insulin, pausing to pat Wenceslas' head. Once the AZT bottle was in her hand, April collapsed onto the bed, the weight of the situation falling hard. Pregnant! She was pregnant! What was she going to say to Roger, if she ever got the courage to face him? How would he react? Then there was the AIDS. This child would definitely be infected, too. It was hard enough seeing the Center's children, knowing that they would die before their tenth birthday. How could she handle it if her child was one of them? This child would most definitely have AIDS. There was no doubt that she infected this baby, just like how she infected Roger. She was just infecting people left and right. It was better to end it now. As for this child, better that it died now then to suffer slowly. Steeling herself, April opened the AZT bottle and counted out about forty of the pills. That should be more then enough. But just as she was about to place them into her mouth, the door opened and Emily walked in.

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?" Emily screamed, realizing instantly what April was intending, and flying over to slap the pills out of April's hand. "ARE YOU MAD, WOMAN?" It took April a moment to get over the shock of seeing Emily angry for the first time.

"Go away, Emily!" April shouted back. "I have to do this!"

"Horse bunk! You don't have to do anything! Nothing can possibly warrant doing _this_."

"Bullsh-t, Emily!" April glared daggers, momentarily forgetting the no-swearing rule. "I have AIDS, if you've forgotten!"

"So? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I don't want to die!"

"Oh, I see," Emily fired back sarcastically. "You don't want to die, so you try and kill yourself? _That's _smart."

"Shut up!" April shrieked. "Don't act like you have any idea how I feel! You don't have AIDS! You don't have to worry about infecting anyone, about _killing _anyone. You don't have to worry about _anything_!"

"Oh, yeah. You're so right, April. I only just got to see my parents _murdered_ when I was four, and have my brother and last remaining relative die from the virus, topped off with spending every day looking after kids and little babies with AIDS or drug addictions, with some of them dying within their first month. Oh, yeah. My life is _just peachy_!" Emily snapped. "News flash, Ericsson. No one ever said life was supposed to be easy. If it was, rocks would do it." The final part of Emily's rant came out gently, and absent of any anger or frustration. Likewise, April's anger disappeared and was replaced by sorrow.

"I'm sorry. I just can't forget it. This baby. What if it's infected too? It'll be my fault. Just like it's gonna be my fault if Roger's infected."

"It's not just you who has to deal with this, you know," Emily reminded gently. "You'd be surprised how many people come down with AIDS these days. Just ask Dr. Jordan sometime. Last week, he got twelve individuals with it. Don't know their names, mind you. The whole doctor-patient-confidentiality thing. As for the kid… well, you know… I have a_ lot_ of experience in caring for AIDS babies. If you need any help in raising it, I'm more then willing to help. And with the treatments that they have out these days, you can all live fairly normal lives."

"But… we could all…."

"Die. Yes, that is true. But for goodness sakes, April. You're living in New York. People get mugged, shot, stabbed everyday. Tomorrow, I could step outside to grab some bagels from the bakery, and get caught in a drive-by shooting."

"Your point?"

"All I'm saying is life's unpredictable, and sometimes the 'impossible' becomes possible. Make the best with what you're given, and don't torture yourself. It's like… you're reading a book, but you don't like the way it's going. The ending's not going to change if you stop reading. You just have to roll with the punches."

Emily and April sat in silence for a long time, until April finally spoke up.

"I… I think I figured out… what I'm going to name it…if it's a 'her'," she announced, rubbing her belly.

"Oh, really. What?" April flashed Emily a genuine smile.

"Musetta."

"Musetta? That's pretty," Emily smiled back. "Nice choice."

**End Flashback**

_Maybe, being a mother won't be so bad. I_have _always loved kids. And if Emily's going to be around, then at least I can be sure my child, mine and Roger's child, will be able to live as long as possible. Knowing Emily, she will make sure of it._

* * *

**AN:**I did a lot of research for this chapter and the next one. If my mom managed to see my internet search history (heroin withdrawal symtoms, early signs of pregnancy, etc.) she'd probably ship me off to see a psychiatrist. (LOL).  
How'd you like April's choice of her possible daughter's name? I thought it would be a cute way to show how much she loves Roger, you know? Anyway, prepare yourself. Next chapter _will_ be dark. So, until next time...


	5. The First Time I Ever Saw Mom Cry

**AN:** Warning. I am not responsible for crying fits brought about from reading this chapter. Lol. Just kidding. But this chapter is sad and tragic, so prepare yourselves._  
_

* * *

_July 18, 1988_

_The past two months have flown by. Despite how short the time has felt, so much has happened. I can now say that I'm not only two months along, but I'm also proud to be two months clean. The withdrawal is a thing of the past._

_Emily has been incredible! The day after I found out I was pregnant, she came back from the public library, her arms loaded with every book on pregnancy they had, talking about how she maxed out her library card. And yesterday, I discovered that she had talked the children into helping out with a special surprise. When I woke up, I came downstairs to see that every one of them had made gifts for me, such as a clay pacifier holder in the shape of a butterfly, or a baby quilt made out of different fabric squares the children had taken from the scrap bin at a local fabric store. What's more, little Penny has been showering me with questions, asking me what carrying a baby felt like, and if I'm going to bring Musetta around to play with her everyday._

_Yes, that's right. Even though it's too soon to tell if my baby is a boy or girl, Emily and I have a mutual agreement to just call it Musetta, as it's more pleasant then just calling it 'the baby' all the time._

_With all the attentive attention I've been getting, I can almost forget that I have HIV. Almost._

**Flashback**

April woke upon hearing the familiar honking of passing cars. Even from the rollaway bed, she could see that it was going to be a beautiful day. Glancing over, she had to laugh at the sight of Emily, still asleep in the iron cast bed. She was sprawled out with her arms propped up in the air, similar to the way a dog or cat would hold their paws when sleeping on their back.

"Hey, Emily," April giggled, poking her side lightly.

"Mmmm. Rupert, Jerry, quit it." Hearing Emily immediately blaming the two affable troublemakers of the Center made April laugh even louder. The laughter pulled Emily completely out of her state of sleep.

"Why do you immediately blame those two?"

"It saves time."

"Well, hurry and get up! I want some of your special Mickey Mouse pancakes!" April trilled. Emily grinned at April's perkiness.

"You're cheerful this morning."

"Today's my ultrasound, remember? Musetta's an embryo now!"

"You know," Emily laughed. "You _really _should consider a backup name, just in case that little bowling ball inside you is a boy."

"If it is a boy, I'm just going to have to figure out how to make Musetta a unisex name. I've gotten too used to using that name."

"Oh, boy. This perkiness of yours. I'm going to miss it when your mood swings kick in." April smacked Emily's arm playfully in response, a wide grin on her face.

* * *

Hours later, Emily and April were standing by the counter of a local restaurant in Chinatown to pick up the Center's lunch order. April kept taking the black and white ultrasound photo out of the manila folder to just look at it. That was her child. Hers and Roger's. Smiling to herself, she put the photo away, and returned her attention to Emily, who was reading a pamphlet Dr. Jordan had given them to her.

"You may find your vaginal area to be extra sensitive and slightly swollen from the extra blood. You will also notice an increased vaginal discharge that helps keep the vaginal canal clean and infection free," Emily rattled off the information written on the pamphlet.

"Miss Goodhall!" The maitre d' called out at that moment. "Your food's up!"

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Yao. Is that everything Nana ordered?" As Emily and Mr. Yao double checked the contents of the lunch order, April glanced out at the other patrons. Suddenly, she froze as her eyesight fell on one patron, a bald African American man, one whom she recognized instantly.

Of all the Chinese restaurants in lower Manhattan, Nana and Emily had chosen the one Benny was in!

As if he sensed someone was looking, Benny started to look over in her direction. With less then a second to spare, April ducked down behind the wall divider, hoping he didn't get a glimpse of her.

"Hey, April!" Emily, who had finished checking the lunch order, spoke up as she started turning around. "Can you help me carry…?" Emily trailed off upon noticing that April was crouching down. "What's with you?"

"It's Benny!" April whispered.

"Benny?" Emily momentarily was confused to what she was talking about. "Oh!" Emily, finally remembering April's stories, began to look. "You mean your boyfriend's rooOO…" April, in a panic, grabbed Emily by the Yankee's jersey and pulled her down to the ground.

"What are you doing?" April hissed. "He'll see you!" Without any other warning, April quickly ducked out of the restaurant. Emily blinked in confusion, before getting back up. Once she was upright, however, she found Benny, who had obviously came over to see what was going on, was standing in front of her.

"Was it…" Benny looked around in puzzlement. "Wasn't someone else with you?" Emily cast a hesitant glance to the door April had just ran out of before replying.

"No," Emily lied. "Just me." Without another word, Emily hurried out.

* * *

Back at the Center, Emily dropped the bags of food on the counter in front of Nana.

"Did April come back here, Nana?"

"Yes. She arrived a few minutes before you did. She's in the upstairs room. Why?"

"Later," Emily announced, marching off to her room. Entering, she instantly saw April by the window. "Hey!" Emily scolded. "How about a little warning before you decide to run off again?"

"I came back here," April replied simply.

"That's not the point! Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"You were worried?"

"Yes, I was worried! You just ran off. I don't know where you went, when you're coming back, if you're coming back, you just disappear."

"I'm sorry," April whispered. "I just couldn't let Benny see me."

"Why not? He's Roger's roommate, isn't he?"

"Exactly! If Benny saw me, he'd tell Roger!"

"And that's a problem, how?"

"Emily," April moaned. "I'm supposed to be visiting my folks. What would Roger think if his friend told him I was still in New York? The first one who'd have a right to know I was still here would be Roger."

"So? Go see him."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Emily, don't you get it? I've been away for two months, and Roger thinks I'm in Michigan. What's he going to do if I go back and tell him that I'm pregnant? I'm two months along, and I don't tell him until now!"

"Oh. Is that what this is about? You're worried he'll be mad you hadn't told him right off the back."

"And I couldn't do that then. I was still upset about the possibility that I gave him AIDS!" April buried her face in her hands, collapsing onto the armchair. "What am I going to do, Emily?" Emily paused before kneeling down, so her face was level with April's.

"Listen. I don't claim to be an expert on boyfriend behavior, I'm not. But, I think you should tell him, regardless of how long it's been. He _is _the father, after all. He has a right to know. And you know what they say, better late then never."

"But what if he's angry I kept this from him for this long?"

"Well, if Roger is as sweet and loving as you keep making him out to be, then he'll understand. Tell you what. You go see him tomorrow, and I _promise _I'll go with you, so we can tell him together."

"Really?"

"Hey, I'm your friend, aren't I? Friends are always there for each other, right?" April smiled widely.

"Thanks, Emily. How about we go eat?" April patted her still-flat belly. "We're both up for some lunch."

"Right. Come on." However, as April started to get up, she suddenly bent over, clutching her abdomen, crying out in pain. "April! Are you okay?"

"I… I don't know!" April managed to say before letting out a second cry of pain.

"NANA!" Emily screamed down the stairs. "CALL AN AMBULANCE! QUICK!"

* * *

A short time later, April had been admitted to the maternity ward at the hospital. Emily stood by April's bed, both of them waiting nervously. Nana had remained at the Center to watch the children, but Emily had promised to tell her what happened the moment she got back.

"What's taking them so long?" Emily finally broke the silence.

"Emily, what if…" April choked.

"Don't think that way. We don't know anything yet," Emily replied gently. "Try not to get too wound up, okay? Remember, it's not good for Musetta. The kid's entering the critical stages of development, now." The two girls were silent for a moment.

"Emily," April began. "When Musetta's born, you _better _come and visit her everyday."

"Count on it. Hey, I might even help provide pictures for your little baby books." The playful banter continued, and April was grateful for Emily's presence. She'd be worried sick if Emily hadn't been there to help ease the tension. At that moment, Dr. Jordan walked in. Emily and April's smiles instantly vanished, instantly noticing the somber way he was walking.

* * *

Nana looked up the second she heard the door open, just in time to see April race by, heading straight up to the upstairs room.

"April, what…?" Nana began to go after her, but Emily stopped the old woman.

"Nana," Emily shook her head. "Give her space. That's all we can do, now. Give her time."

"Emily?" Nana whispered, noticing the beginnings of tears in the corners of Emily's eyes. "What happened? What's wrong?" Emily took a whole minute to work up the strength to answer. When she finally did, her voice was cracked and rough from suppressed tears.

"Miscarriage."

**End Flashback**

_I can't take it! It's bad enough I killed Roger, but I killed our child as well! It's my fault! If I hadn't dropped the heroin cold turkey, I wouldn't have miscarried. I heard what Dr. Jordan said. Going cold turkey on drugs increases the chances that your baby would be harmed. And he was right! _

_I killed Roger, and I killed Musetta! How long before I kill someone else? The next person I kill could be Emily, or one of those children! I can't let that happen. This… this is the only way. Two cuts, that's all it will take. One for Roger, the other for Musetta._

_I'm sorry Roger. I brought you to where you are now. You gave me everything, and I repaid you by placing a death sentence on you. You did nothing to deserve this. But I do. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. I know you'll probably hate me when you find me tomorrow. That's okay. I deserve that. It's my fault, all of it. But you need to understand one thing. It's not about you. I'm going to do this because _I_ was the one __who was wrong, in so many ways. Keep writing songs. And make sure Mark keeps filming. I know the two of you will make it big someday, even though I won't be around to see it. I love you, Roger._

_Musetta, I'm sorry to you, too. Because of me, you won't even experience life, even if it's only for a little while. It's my fault you died before you were even born. The only consolation I can give is that I'm going to be with you soon. Believe me, even though I only had you for a short time, I did love you, regardless._

_And finally, Emily. I'm sorry I couldn't make it. You worked so hard to help me get my life in order, and to prepare for being a mother. You actually got me excited about the concept. But most of all, I want to thank you for all you've done this past month. You've made my last few months as bright as you could. I never would have hung on this long if it wasn't for you. Thank you for being my friend. I'm sorry I never got around to introducing you to Roger, and to Collins, Maureen, Benny and Mark. I know you would have liked them. Although, if I had, we probably wouldn't have seen you and Mark again, since the two of you would probably be off every second, filming and taking pictures in the park together. And I truly hope you manage to adopt Penny one day. You deserve it._

_By the time anyone gets around to reading this, I will most likely be with Musetta again. But I don't want anyone blaming themselves. If anyone deserves blame, it is me._

That was the last entry April had ever written. Instead, there was a note tucked into the page, right next to the final entry. Sighing heavily, Roger unfolded the note to see it was in Emily's handwriting.

_Roger,_

_If you're reading this, that must mean you read April's journal. And that means you know everything about April, and her time at the Center, and the child you lost. I hope you realize now why I kept all this from you. Let's face it, you're not exactly the best at handling pain. I had already been told how you reacted when she died. I thought it was best that you didn't know about everything else, too. I'm sorry for not telling you all of this sooner. Bear in mind, I'm not asking to be forgiven. I don't deserve it. I was the one who didn't let anyone go up to comfort her, in an attempt to let her mourn in private. If only I'd known how foolish that was, because I did learn that, the very next day. But by then, it was too late._

_Roger, on that morning that it happened, when I found out that she had left the Center before anyone else had woken up, I had immediately made my way over to your place. I had found the address written in this notebook. I was under the assumption that she had simply gone back to talk things over with you. And if she wasn't there, I figured that you or one of her friends would at least have some idea where she'd be. But when I came up the street, and saw you in the doorway, screaming in anguish, with the people I now know as Mark and Collins holding you back, and her being taken out into the back of that ambulance…. I knew then what she must have done. What I'd done._

There were small blotches staining Emily's letter at this point. A sick feeling hit Roger's gut when he realized that they were tearstains. Biting his lip to force back tears of his own, he read on.

_I could write 'I'm sorry' a million times, and it still wouldn't be enough. I know now that I should have explained all this to you, right after we met. But I thought you were better off not knowing. I know now I should have gone upstairs to offer April some comfort, when she was clearly distraught after loosing the baby. But I thought she just needed time alone to think and mourn. Believe me, I know there's nothing I can say or do to fix the damage I've caused. I said before that I'm not asking to be forgiven, and I'm not. I just wanted you to know that I thought I was doing the right thing._

"In Mom's defense," Penny announced, once Roger had finished reading, "she _did _go over once, to tell you all this. I know. I was there."

"When was this?" Mark asked.

"It was about two days after her funeral."

**Flashback**

Penny watched as Emily nervously fidgeted outside the sliding metal door. Emily had picked the lock in the door to get into the building and they had climbed up the stairs without hesitation. But now, Emily was stalling.

"Okay," Emily sighed, as she started to rehearse. "I'm here to talk about your friend, April. No, that's no good. She just died. That sounds so insensitive. Hi. You don't know me, and I don't know you, but I really think there's something we've got to talk about. Oh, _how am I going do this_?" Emily glanced up to the ceiling. "Zack, I know you're there listening. Help me out here, okay Big Brother?" Emily took a deep breath, and raised a hand to knock at the door. Suddenly, a loud commotion was heard on the other side.

"Roger, stop!" a voice shouted. "Collins, quick!"

"Fu-k, Collins, let go!"

"No way, man. You ain't going out there for that sh-t. You swore you were going to quit, remember?"

"I need it, you hear me? Now get the fu-k off!" From outside the door, Emily listened wide-eyed as the sounds of a violent scuffle echoed through the door, accompanied by more screams and swearing. Seconds later, a man could be heard crying and whimpering for April. That was all Emily could take. Without looking back, she took Penny's hand and hurried out of the building. Once they were on the street, Emily clutched a street lamp for support and started to break down.

"Emmy?" Penny looked up at her in confusion.

"I can't," Emily choked. "I can't tell him. Not when he's in that state. Zack, Big Brother, I know you're there. What am I supposed to do, here? Please, Brother. Help me. I don't know what else to do."

**End Flashback**

"I'll never forget that day," Penny concluded. "Because that was the first time I ever saw Mom cry."

* * *

**AN: **Told you that chapter was sad, didn't I? Next chapter will be up soon. Reviews may speed up the process (hint-hint). Until next time...


	6. Heart To Heart

**AN:** This chapter is short, but the next one will be up soon. Why? Cause I can stay up later then usual. Why? Cause I don't have to go to school tomorrow! Why, do you ask? Because we had a big snow storm on Thursday night. A lot of people have no power, there are fallen tree branches everywhere. There's a driving ban in the city, so many people aren't allowed to drive down for class. It sounds like a blast, but there's a down side. We have a water overflow warning, meaning we can't shower, do laundry, nothing. Plus there's also a boil water advisory in effect. That's killing me the most, because I'm thirsty, and my only two options are waiting for boiled water to cool or drink diet root beer, which I shouldn't drink because I already had some earlier, and it's not good for me if I keep drinking it. I do have milk, but it expired three days ago.

Anyway, my small rant aside, on with the story: A little Roger/Mimi moment, for the people who, like me, are fans of this pairing.

* * *

Roger's head was bent, so his expression was concealed from everyone else. After a long time, he stood up abruptly and marched into his room. After a moment's hesitation, Mimi got up to go in after him. She immediately saw him sprawled out on their bed, his back facing the door. Slowly, she crossed the room and sat down next to him. Only when she gently started rubbing his arm did he look up.

"Mimi," Roger whispered, the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"I'm here for you, babe," Mimi comforted. Roger looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I can't imagine… what it must have been like… for you to hear all that."

"What are you talking about?"

"April and I could have had a kid, Mimi. Doesn't that bother you?" Mimi smiled softly, and tenderly kissed the back of Roger's hand.

"You loved April, Roger. I've accepted that a long time ago," Mimi assured. "Even back when we first met, I knew that she'd always mean something to you. She will always be a part of who you are. But that's just it, don't you see? If it wasn't for her, you and I might never have met. So, in a way, I'm grateful to her." After a brief second, Roger allowed Mimi to cradle his head in her arms.

"I never knew," Roger confessed, crying openly now. "All this time, and I never knew just what happened. I woke up that morning, and saw her shoes by the door, and I got all excited, thinking she'd come back from Michigan. I saw the… the bathroom door closed, and I thought she was just showering, getting the travel dirt off her. I walked in to surprise her… in the shower… and…." Mimi held Roger tighter as his tears fell harder, running her fingers through his hair. They stayed like that for a long time. Finally, after ten minutes, Roger sat back up, and glanced at the window, seeing that it was getting dark.

"I should go," he whispered, getting up.

"Where?" Mimi held his arm, as if fearing he'd do something drastic. Roger looked back at Mimi with a loving glance.

"Emily," he replied. "Don't you remember? That note of hers; she blames herself. I gotta apologize. The last thing I said to her was an accusation that she was not my friend. But she'd taken care of April for two whole months, and while she'd basically been lying by not telling me about all this, she was only doing it to keep me happy."

"Do you want me to come, too?"

"No. This… this is something I gotta do alone. Thanks for the offer, though." Mimi nodded in understanding with a smile on her face. Returning the smile, Roger leaned in to kiss her.

"I love you," he whispered after they had pulled apart.

"I love you, too." Mimi squeezed his hand affectionately as Roger left to talk to Emily.


	7. Patched

Roger entered Emily's apartment to find it completely deserted. The only one there was Wenceslas, who immediately came up to nuzzle Roger's leg.

"Hey, boy," Roger smiled, patting the small black pig's side. "Is Emily around?" It was then that Roger noticed the door to Emily's bathroom was closed and he froze in shock, the memories coming back in a terrible jolt. No. She wouldn't do _that_. Would she? As soon as that possibility crossed his mind, two different sentences came back to him.

_I thought you were my friend, Emily!_

_I said before that I'm not asking to be forgiven, and I'm not. I just wanted you to know that I thought I was doing the right thing._

"Emily, no!" Roger whispered, feeling a wave of fear as he leapt for the bathroom door. The door flew open without effort, and the steam from the running shower poured out of the bathroom. "EMILY!" Roger yelled in a panic. A second later, to Roger's immense relief, Emily poked her head through the shower curtain, holding it up to cover herself. She flinched upon seeing Roger.

"You must be pretty desperate to yell at me again, since you're willing to intrude on someone taking a shower," She mumbled morosely.

"Sorry. I just… was afraid that you'd… follow _her _example." Emily grimaced, clearly realizing what Roger was getting at.

"You seriously assumed I'd up and leave Penny alone, after all I went through to make her my daughter? Even _if _I'd do… _that_… I don't see why you would care. It's clear you don't want anything to do with me."

"You're wrong. I don't want to loose _any _of my friends." Emily seemed to study Roger's face for a moment before ducking back behind the shower curtain to turn off the water. Roger waited patiently as Emily reached out to grab the towel hanging on a nearby peg to wrap up. Moments later, Emily stepped out, holding the towel up to ensure it wouldn't come undone.

"I thought you said…"

"I didn't mean what I said," Roger insisted, placing his hands on Emily's shoulders. "I was angry, and confused. I wish I could take back what I said this afternoon. If I'd known then what I know now, how you took care of April, and offered to help raise Musetta…." Emily chuckled in spite of herself.

"You've… read the journal."

"I did."

"Then you must know how I failed to help her. If I had gone up to be with her, then perhaps she'd never…"

"I read about how you did everything you could to help her, Emily. I read about how you were there for her, and did what you could to cheer her up whenever the opportunity arose. You said in your letter that you weren't asking to be forgiven, remember?"

"Yes. And I'm not expecting to be."

"Good. Because I'm _not _forgiving you. Because, to use your own words, there's nothing _to _forgive." This made Emily look up in surprise.

"But… I…. she…"

"Emily, did you know that I only decided to quit smack after she had died? If she'd never died, I'd probably _still _be a junkie. Besides, it was because of her death that I never left the Loft. If I had, I'd never have met Mimi. So, in a way, it was probably for the best that you weren't able to save her. Because you weren't able to save April, you were able to indirectly save me, and, in a way, Mimi as well." Emily remained quiet for a moment.

"Life for a life," Emily nodded. "It's rather funny, actually, once you think about it. And I mean funny strange, not funny haha. She used to talk about introducing me to you and the others one day. Do you think… Perhaps _she _was the one who made Mark crash his bike outside the Center, to try and make up for never getting that chance."

"Who can say? But, whatever the reason, I'm _not _sorry that we met and became friends, Emily. I never could be." Roger placed a brotherly kiss on Emily's forehead.

"Thanks, Roger. Now, if you don't mind, could you, maybe, step outside so I can dry off and get dressed?"

"Sure," Roger chucked. "Just head upstairs to get us once you're done, okay? We still got to finish helping you move in."

"Count on it," Emily grinned.

* * *

**AN: **So, I only intend there to be one more chapter after this. Then it's on to the next sequel. Hope you enjoyed reading this story, and stay tuned for the conclusion. Until next time...


	8. Happy Birthday!

**AN: **And here it is- the final chapter. Special thanks to Forget Regret05, Feline Mimi, Tina101, Serendipity Kat, AlyssaLLBlack13, and anyone else who offered assistance in coming up with gift ideas. This chapter, therefore, is dedicated to you. So, enjoy.

* * *

Roger laughed in amusement as the multitudes of streamers from the party poppers flew at him, most getting caught in his hair, prompting him to try and pull them out with the help of Mimi, who was perched on his lap.

"Zoom in on Roger," Mark narrated, whipping out his camera, "who's just turned twenty-five."

"Aw, put that camera away, Mark," Emily laughed, reaching over to lower Mark's arm. "This is a night best left for memories." Mark joined into Emily's laughter as he returned his camera to his bag.

"_What_?!" Maureen gaped. "For nearly four years, he's ignored us when we told him to put away that camera, but Emily only tells him once, and he listens?"

"Call it the Filmmaker/Photographer Pact, Maureen," Emily grinned.

The Bohemians were gathered at the Life Café, celebrating Roger's birthday. Roger and Mimi were at the head of the table, with Collins, Joanne and Maureen on one side, and Mark and Emily, with Penny sitting between them, on the other. Roger kept tugging at the string that held his paper party hat in place.

"Roger, stop!" Mimi scolded after the fifth time. "Leave it alone!"

"Aw, come on, Meems. Please let me take this ridiculous thing off. The string's cutting into my skin."

"No! Please, baby, keep it on." Mimi begged, snaking her arms around his neck and running a finger across his jaw line, favoring the cleft in his rough chin, before whispering into his ear. "I promise I'll make it worth your while when we get home."

"Oh, really?" Roger grinned deviously. "What did you have in mind?" Mimi replied with a devious grin of her own, and the couple was all over each other in an instant.

"Seriously, how do they do it?" Emily asked Mark in wonderment, after five minutes had passed and Roger and Mimi were still showing no signs of pulling apart. "When do they breathe?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Roger and Mimi only pulled apart once their dinner had arrived.

"Present time! Present time!" Maureen began to chant as soon as the meal was finished.

"Prese..." Penny started to join in.

"Penny, don't encourage her," Emily play-scolded. The Bohemians, minus the scowling Maureen, started laughing at the fact that Emily had told a seven-year-old not to encourage a grown woman, when it was usually the other way around. Once the laughter had subsided, Roger complied with Maureen's request and started on his presents. From Mark, he got an entire photo album, filled with pictures of the two of them that went way back to the days when they had lived in Scarsdale as small boys. Mimi had given him a thick manuscript, _The Big Book of Staff Paper_. However, upon opening Maureen's gift, Roger half-choked on his beer, staring wide-eyed at a box with the words "_The Naughty Weekend Kit_" printed on the cover. Roger glared at Maureen, and Mark helped Emily cover Penny's eyes and ears, as Mimi examined the box, which contained things like a red velvet blindfold, massage oil, and an instruction book.

"No offense, Maureen," Mimi giggled. "But I think _I_ know more tricks then this booklet could."

"Moving on," Roger mumbled, a definite reddish tint appearing on his cheeks. The rest of the gifts were unveiled with a little less awkwardness, such as a guitar tool kit and strings from Joanne, and a shot glass chess set from Collins. Penny's gift was a small silver medallion with the image of a woman on it.

"It's St. Cecilia," the small girl explained. "She's the Patron Saint of Musicians, Poets, Singers and Composers."

"Wow," Roger chuckled. "Thanks, Penny." Emily's gift came last. It was a flat, thin package in balloon-patterned paper.

"It's something you definitely don't have," Emily explained. "I thought that you'd want it." Roger opened the present to reveal the sole content of a single black and white photo. He stared at it in shock.

"Is…. Emily, is this…?" he whispered, in dawning realization.

"Musetta," Emily nodded. "If anyone had a right to keep that, it would be the child's father." Roger continued to look at the ultrasound in silence. "I'm sorry," Emily said quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you…"

"No, Emily," Roger shook his head abruptly, a slow smile stretching across his face. "It's…. thank you. You'll have a hard time topping this present next year."

* * *

The party continued well into the night, finally ending around one in the morning, at which the group of friends went their separate ways, Joanne and Maureen heading to the apartment they shared, and the others heading back to the Loft. Roger and Mimi were walking along, arm in arm, followed by Collins, who was dropping Roger's gifts back at the Loft before taking the subway to his small pad, the one Angel had left him, and Mark and Emily, the latter carrying a sleeping Penny. Despite the cooling night breeze that was hitting Roger's face, nothing could ruin this night for him. As cheesy as it might have sounded, despite the gifts he had gotten that night, his favorite gift of all had been the love his friends, his family, held for him.

* * *

**AN:** I know the ending's cheesy. Sorry 'bout that.  
The next sequel planned is a Fourth of July fic. Watch for it. Until next time, this is Data Girl 3, signing off...


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